Teach Me How To
by Sora Miyara
Summary: Tybalt wants to learn how to write, his parents didn’t want to teach him and now his uncle doesn’t have time for him. Maybe a cousin of the royal family can help? TybaltMercutio UPDATED AT LAST! edited the end of Chap8
1. Chapter 1

**Teach Me How To…**

**Summary**: Tybalt wants to learn how to write, his parents didn't want to teach him and now his uncle doesn't have time for him. Maybe a cousin of the royal family can help? Tybalt/Mercutio

**AN:** The story doesn't make any sense, but **just** **work with me dear reader, work with me!** nn Oh well, I think this is one of the few T/M stories (or maybe the only one O.O) where Tybalt and Mercutio are both still alive. Creating a situation where they could be able to 'fall in love' is hard and the situation of the summary was the best I could think of (laugh). Oh well… I hope you like it anyway!

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"How do you mean 'you do not have time to teach me'?"

Tybalt walked behind his uncle, his voice sounding loud and clear in the big hall of the Capulet's house. He had just asked him to teach him how to write. But his uncle's respond was negative.

"My dear cousin," his uncle answered not looking back at the person he was speaking to, "I have love enough to bring up my spirit to teach you, but not enough time. My daughter, Julia, is almost 14. We have to think about her marriage and find her a good husband, someone who deserves her."

"But that will cost weeks, or months! I do not want to wait that long!" Tybalt said louder and his uncle turned around.

"Why are you so eager to write and read? You never asked this before."

"Uncle I am 18! I am the only one here that does not know how to write or to read. Someone else always has to read my letters and write responses back! It is embarrassing! My parents never…" He cut off his sentence and his hands formed fists. Tybalt loathed, even hated, his parents. He had almost cheered when he heard his parents had died and he could live with his uncle in Verona.

His uncle's hand was placed on his shoulder as a sign of comfort. "Look Tybalt. I myself can not teach you, nor anyone else of this house. I will try to search a teacher for you as soon as possible."

"Thank you uncle."

Tybalt turned around and walked away from his uncle, his hands still forming fists.

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After the conversation with his uncle, Tybalt had gone outside. He looked down at his feet preventing the sun to shine in his pale face and he kicked the sand away. His thoughts were somewhere else but he automatically found his way to Verona's square, placing himself on one of the little fountains. He still looked down, far away in his thoughts. There were only a few villagers on the square, silently passing.

But then he could hear laughter, first further away, but then closer and louder. Tybalt looked up quickly. Mercutio, Benvolio and Romeo entered Verona's square. Mercutio as always was making the most noise and made Benvolio and Romeo laugh. They came closer but hadn't noticed the lonely figure which was Tybalt yet. Tybalt again bowed his head and hoped he would stay unnoticed. Normally he would be eager to face the three friends, mock them and challenge them to a fight. But normally he wasn't alone. He was seldom seen without other Capulet member or friends.

And that's where he got noticed.

"Ahah!" Mercutio's loud voice filled the square.

Tybalt's hand slowly reached to his rapier, still not lifting his head. Not to strike but for defence. Just in case, for he disliked Mercutio, though he was almost sure that the young man would never attack someone who was alone.

Even if it was Tybalt.

He finally looked up. The group was standing ten passes away from him. Romeo's laugh had disappeared and Benvolio's face had become neutral making it hard to see what he was thinking.

"Mercutio, no…" Romeo began but was silenced by Mercutio who walked towards Tybalt with his usual grin pasted on his face.

"Seems like Verona's cat comes out to enjoy the sun." He said coming closer to the fountain.

Tybalt's grip on his rapier grew. "Seems like Verona's clown comes to enjoy the sun also."

Romeo looked around uncomfortably though Tybalt's comment didn't seem to bother Mercutio. "Not in your usual tribe of followers Tybalt?"

"As you can see Mercutio."

"I see but do not believe. Are you feeling well?"

"Well enough."

Mercutio stood still, only two passes between himself and the sitting Tybalt. Romeo took a step forward and then waited like he hesitated. "Mercutio, let us move on… please…"

A few silent seconds past, it even felled like the other villagers on Verona's square were looking at them.

"All right." Mercutio finally responded though he didn't let his eyes move away from Tybalt. He turned around and walked away from the square, followed by a relieved Romeo and a still neutral Benvolio.

When they were out of sight Tybalt let go off his rapier and stood up. He was slightly surprised that Mercutio would take the risk to turn his back at Tybalt without holding his own rapier by his side. The villagers moved on, continuing with what they were doing. Tybalt walked away roughly, sand dancing around his feet, as he went back to the Capulet's house.

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A servant knocked on the door of Tybalt's room, three days after the encounter with Mercutio. The owner of the room opened the door rather surly and the servant started to speak.

"Sir Tybalt, your uncle wants to speak with you, he is waiting in the hall downstairs."

The surly look on Tybalt's face disappeared. "I will be right present."

The servant bowed and walked away. Tybalt closed the door behind him and went down the stairs. Had his uncle finally found him a teacher? Or would he have time for him after all? He entered the hall and approached his uncle who was holding a piece of paper in his hand.

"Good day uncle." Tybalt said making a slight bow.

"Good day dear cousin. I have good news for you. It was hard but I think I found a worthy teacher for you."

"That is great news uncle! Tell me about this teacher."

"I do not entirely know who he is. I was walking in the village yesterday when the prince of Verona crossed my path while he was riding his horse. He asked me what I was doing and I told that I was searching someone who could teach you how to write. The prince said I could stop my search and he would point out a teacher himself. Thus, this morning I received a letter from one of the prince's servants. You can go to your first lesson today if you wish to." He handed Tybalt the piece of paper which was the letter in question.

Tybalt nodded. "Then I will go right now." He bowed. "Thank you again for your efforts."

His uncle smiled and walked away.

Not yet ten minutes later Tybalt had arrived at the gate of the royal family's house. He looked around, wondering what he had to do when two guards approached him. "What are you doing here sir?"

"Sir, I am Tybalt of the Capulet's house and I was invited by the prince himself to take lessons." He handed the letter to the guard who looked at the seal at the bottom which was clearly the prince's.

He nodded and gave the letter back to Tybalt as the other guard began to speak. "I will escort you to the door."

Tybalt nodded and followed the guard when the gate opened. Tybalt had never been on royal ground before and he looked at the flowers which all seemed to have different colours and shapes. Trees were standing nicely in a row next to the path like silent guards that only moved when the wind blew. It didn't impress Tybalt and he looked at his feet again till they arrived at the door. The guard opened the door and bowed at Tybalt who walked inside and heard the door closing behind him. Immediately a servant walked towards him.

"Sir Tybalt of the Capulets?" He asked.

"Yes, that would be me."

"You are here for writing lessons?"

"Indeed."

The old man smiled. "The prince already thought you would come right away. I…"

Slow footsteps sounded trough the hall and Tybalt raised his head to see Mercutio walking above at the stairs, holding a book in his hands which he was reading. Like he knew someone was watching him Mercutio looked up from the book and saw Tybalt standing downstairs. It was silent for a moment.

"Tybalt?"

"Mercutio…" He hadn't thought about the possibility that he would stumble across Mercutio since he was the prince's cousin.

"What are you… doing here?" Mercutio asked closing the book.

"I believe that is none of your business." He looked at the servant again. "Continue good man."

The old servant was slightly confused by the sudden interruption but then nodded. "I… I was given order to take you to your teacher…"

"Teacher?" Mercutio asked still standing above the stairs.

"Be silent you fool!" Tybalt snapped at Mercutio. "Go on." His face was again turned to the servant.

The servant looked a bit shocked about how Tybalt was talking to Mercutio but tried to go on like Tybalt had asked. That if it wasn't for Mercutio who interrupted again.

"What do you wish to teach? Singing? Dancing perhaps? Or maybe walk on a rope? Horse ridding?..."

Tybalt tried to ignore Mercutio's ridiculous wave of possibilities and took a deep breath. "Continue?"

The servant had a bit more problems with Mercutio's rumbling so he didn't notice Tybalt had said something almost ten seconds after the actual question. "Uh… Oh! I-uh… I was also ordered to bring your teacher here when you arrived and introduce you to each other. But… it seems that those tasks are not necessary."

"What do you mean with that statement?" Tybalt asked loudly, trying to surpass Mercutio.

"…Making clothes? Or build houses? How to smile and laugh?..."

"That statement means that your teacher is already present and you both seem to uh… know each other."

Tybalt looked around the room, thinking that he had possibly hadn't seen another presence in the room except for himself, the servant and Mercutio who finally ended his list with things to learn.

"Shooting practice? Make furniture? How to cook? Being less cat-ish? If it is anything from what I said, Tybalt, say 'Ay!'"

"And who may that teacher be than?" Asked Tybalt harshly as he tried to fight the urge to kill Mercutio on the spot.

"Well uh… Sir Mercutio…"

The last two words of the old servant floated in the air for a moment till the two young men understood what they mend.

"WHAT?"

It was hard to tell who was more disgusted by the idea, Tybalt or Mercutio. The servant raised his hands to his chest as if he was afraid that either Tybalt or Mercutio would attack him. Mercutio walked of the stairs, looking from the servant to Tybalt, and back again. "…_What_?" He repeated with one eyebrow raised.

Tybalt looked at the servant, waiting for a response. But the only thing the servant did was staring at Mercutio who had become slightly paler. His hands were playing with the book he was still holding.

"I have to teach…" A little, nervous laugh escaped his throat as he pointed at Tybalt like Mercutio wanted to be sure they were talking about the same person. "…_him_?"

"…Uh… yes sir Mercutio…"

"What?" Mercutio bursted out again, making a roughly hand gesture and by that throwing the book he was holding trough the room.

"What for is all this commotion about?" The prince himself appeared above the stairs where Mercutio had stood only a few seconds ago.

"My lord!" Tybalt said before Mercutio had the chance. "I came here for lessons and this man claims that… he teaches me!" He pointed at Mercutio like Mercutio had pointed to him. They both had the same look of question, disbelief and anger on their face.

"What that man claims, I claim that it is true." The prince said calmly. "Mercutio is the only one available at this house with the ability to teach how to write."

"Write…?" Mercutio repeated. "I-I protest! I have the right to decide if I want to teach him! If I… _writing_!"

"Yes, writing Mercutio. And, no, you do not have that right. You only have the right to do what I say and I say that you will learn, yes, Tybalt of the house of Capulets the art of writing."

Mercutio opened his mouth again for other words of protest but closed it again for he realized it wouldn't matter what he said and he would never win this conversation.

"Now, give Tybalt his first lesson."

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LoL, oh my… This was so weird nn I think I will rate it as comedy also, I mean… the situation is pretty funny not? I hope you liked the first chapter!

Now… how many lessons before they kill each other? XD


	2. Chapter 2

**Teach Me How To…**

**Summary**: Tybalt wants to learn how to write, his parents didn't want to teach him and now his uncle doesn't have time for him. Maybe a cousin of the royal family can help? Tybalt/Mercutio

**AN: **I found out that I'm not the only one with a fic where our both sexy-ass Verona men are still alive! XD OCDdegrassi has not one, but two fics with Mercutio and Tybalt that do not take place in the after life. Horay for her! nn But now, lets see how _this_ story continues. Enjoy!

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Mercutio was humiliated and angry. Not only was he put on his place by his uncle and forced to do something he didn't want to, but it happened while Tybalt was standing next to him, the Capulet he disliked the most. Though Mercutio humiliation could not win from Tybalt's. Mercutio knew he could not write, he Tybalt, a young man of the decent and proud Capulet house. He followed Mercutio up the stairs. But why? He didn't want lessons from the prince's cousin at all, but it was maybe his only chance to learn how to write. And he would never give Mercutio the pleasure of leaving and prove that he couldn't handle being with Mercutio for that matter.

Being with Mercutio made Tybalt think of another thing too. He was on Mercutio's territory, he was weak now. As in a reflex he wanted to grab his rapier but found out that he didn't carried it with him. In all his hurry to get his first lesson, Tybalt had forgotten the weapon. His feeling of weakness increased highly but he still followed Mercutio who had opened the door from some kind of office. The office contained a huge desk and a few closets. At the right side was a couch standing with much decorations and thick red pillows on it. The window opposite of the door watched out over the royal garden.

Mercutio turned around at Tybalt, gave him a look of high concentration and put his finger to his lips as if he was trying to solve a very difficult riddle. Tybalt's face was the one of an angry frown as he waited what would happen next. Then Mercutio lowered his hand and walked past Tybalt again, making a hand gesture at the chair standing at the desk.

"Take a seat." His voice had a pinch of hesitation.

Tybalt turned around as Mercutio passed him and left the room. He heard Mercutio's footsteps fade away at the other side of the door and decided to sit down like he was told. A minute later Mercutio entered the room again, this time his arms were filled with quills, ink and parchment. He dropped it on the desk carefully, laying the parchment in front of Tybalt, a quill next to it and a bottle of ink at the other side. While he was doing this Tybalt was watching Mercutio closely. He didn't saw a rapier or any other weapon at Mercutio's side. The feeling of weakness that had increased a few seconds ago disappeared. If Mercutio would attack Tybalt with only his hands, than Tybalt would win without a doubt. It was not hard to see that Mercutio looked more fragile than Tybalt and was shorter. Not that much, but it was still in his advantage. Mercutio would be no match for Tybalt.

Mercutio sat down on the red couch and crossed his legs. They made eye contact constantly like they were playing a game of who would be the first to laugh or to turn away. But it didn't seem one of them would laugh or turn away for that moment.

"What is your experience in the knowledge of writing from this far?" Mercutio finally asked, again putting his finger to his lips.

"As good as none." Tybalt replied coldly as if he tried to kill Mercutio with his words.

"Do you know the alphabet?"

"No."

"Not one character?"

"No."

"I see." Mercutio was surprised by this. He didn't have sympathy for the Capulet house, but had always thought that because of their high status they would be able to do a simple thing as writing. He stood up and in an instant Tybalt shuffled in his chair. Mercutio noticed this and came to the thought that Tybalt was thinking he was up to something.

"I am not planning to do you harm."

"Clowns tell jokes and nonsense all the time."

A little grin appeared on Mercutio's face although he had rather wished to be somewhere else, far away from the office and the presence of Tybalt. He took a piece of parchment, another quill and a bottle of ink and bend down over the desk, his brown hair falling before his eyes. Mercutio hoped Tybalt wouldn't attack him now he was this vulnerable. He doubt it though, thinking Tybalt was smart enough not to do anything here in Mercutio's house where he would be caught immediately. Mercutio took the quill in his hands, dipped it in the ink bottle and putted the quill on the parchment. His hand hovered above the piece of paper swiftly and the character _a _was formed.

"I will first teach you the alphabet. This is the first character of the alphabet, _a_." Mercutio explained. He couldn't believe he was actually telling this to Tybalt, instead of the usual insults and mocking. "This is the way to write the small character, the capital character is formed differently. But I will explain that matter to you later."

Tybalt gave a little nod, almost invisible.

"I almost forgot. With which arm do you practice with the sword?"

Tybalt raised one of his eyebrows. "What does that has to do with writing?"

"That arm is the same one with which you will have to write."

Tybalt looked at Mercutio in disbelief, but eventually raised his right hand.

"Good." Mercutio moved his hand with the quill towards Tybalt. "Now you try."

Tybalt took the quill slowly and then looked at the _a _shining on Mercutio's parchment. To his irritation he didn't

knew how to hold the object and tried to find the right way clumsy.

"No, no, no." Mercutio shook his head and took one of the other quills in his hand. "You have to hold it like this." The grin on his face became bigger. It was pretty amusing to see Tybalt helplessly struggle with the little quill in his hand.

Tybalt on the other hand didn't thought it was so funny. "Get rid of that ridiculous grin on your face or I will do it in a way that I think you deserve." He said threatening.

Mercutio's grin didn't fade away but became less, knowing he shouldn't try to test Tybalt's patience. "Hold it like this." The prince's cousin repeated.

With an intense look Tybalt tried to mimic Mercutio's hand. But it still didn't work.

"No, see carefully. This finger must lay here." Mercutio said pointing at his own finger.

Tybalt tried again and failed again. Mercutio frowned in surprise. "How can you do something easy as holding something wrong? Cats are seen as elegant creatures are they not?" He blurted out, knowing he better hadn't.

Mercutio's words angered Tybalt terribly, who tried again, but squeezed the quill in his hand so tightly from frustration that the fragile object broke and the sharp feathers cut Tybalt's hand. Tybalt hissed trough his teeth as he dropped the quill roughly, a bit of blood falling on the parchment. Mercutio on his turn shot up by the sudden action, taking a step away from the desk and from Tybalt who had stood up now also, his bleeding hand brought to his mouth. Silent curses left Tybalt's mouth while he tried to suck up the blood.

"I…" Mercutio took a step forward, again realizing too late that he better didn't have done that, for Tybalt's hand pushed him away with so much force that Mercutio hit his back against one of the closets.

"Do not…" Tybalt said hissing furiously. "Come any closer…"

Mercutio was taken away for a second. He had seldom seen Tybalt so angry, irritated yes, but not like this. He stepped away from the closet, not letting Tybalt's words scare him. "I just want to take a look at it you idiot."

"You do not have to… Just continue the lesson." His eyes were dangerously looking at the prince's cousin from above his bleeding hand.

"If it is deep the wound can get infected."

"I am no child."

"You will not be able to hold the quill without pain!" Mercutio said loudly.

"I can handle pain!" Tybalt said even louder.

"Let me see!" Mercutio took two steps forward, grabbed Tybalt's wrist and turned his hand towards him. The cut was not very deep, but it crossed almost whole his palm. Tybalt, who didn't appreciated Mercutio's help, let out a growl and his other hand shot at Mercutio's shoulder. He pushed the smaller man down, causing them to both hit the floor with a thud. Tybalt turned Mercutio's hand behind his owner and planted his knee in Mercutio's back. Mercutio let out something between a scream and a growl as his hand was painfully turned behind his back and the weight of the other man rested on his body. He tried to struggle free but could not escape from his attacker's grip.

"I told you not to come any closer!" Tybalt hissed in Mercutio ear breathing loudly.

A shiver ran trough Mercutio's body. He clenched his teeth together and closed his eyes. "Let go of me!"

Tybalt stood up quickly as Mercutio let out a moan of pain, rolling on his side and holding his painful hand. He cursed under his breath and stood up. He looked at Tybalt who was still breathing rather loudly and was again sucking the blood on his hand.

"Unbelievable… Really unknowable for the human mind to expect a reaction like yours!" Mercutio hissed this time. Tybalt only looked at him, finally dropping his hand next to his hip. "I offer help, to _you_. Not something you would do for _me _at all. And this is what I get? Are you really this…this?" He didn't know which word he was actually looking for.

Mercutio stared at Tybalt challenging, demanding a reply with the look he was giving the Capulet. But the reply never came. Mercutio shook his head and turned around. "Fine. Good! Be sure to let me know who's poor soul you will be torturing, for you will get not one lesson from me anymore." He walked to the door, pulled it open and saw a hand passing his ear quickly, slamming the door shut again. Mercutio looked at the hand next to his head and turned around to stand face to face with Tybalt.

"Since which day that I missed are _you_ the one that gives _me _orders?" Tybalt said looking down at Mercutio. "If I say 'do not come any closer' than it is not me to blame that you are that stupid to come closer."

"Than I have the right to say back: since which day that I missed are you the one that gives meorders? For if I am not mistaken your words were an order too."

Tybalt let his hand go off the door and noticed his hand was still bleeding lightly.

"Is it an order if I ask you if you need help with that?" Mercutio asked looking at the hand also.

The other one didn't answer but walked at his chair and sat down again. Mercutio got a hint of his usual smirk back, as if the last minute hadn't taken place at all, and walked at one of the closets, taking some bandages out of it.

"Here, just use them… No that is not an order." He added the last part laying the bandages down on the desk.

Tybalt didn't say anything but took the bandages otherwise and wrapped them around his hand. Mercutio took place on the couch again.

"Let this rest until tomorrow." Mercutio said looking at a random part of the desk.

Tybalt raised his head and looked at the prince's cousin. "Are you aware of what you say? For I believe you just said you did not want to continue these lessons."

Mercutio mumbled something.

"Or are you just afraid of me?"

Mercutio ripped his gaze away from the desk and fixed it on Tybalt. "Do not be so foolish. I? Afraid of you? Even in your sweetest dream it would not be possible."

Tybalt snorted, though there was no grin or smile to trace on his face. He stood up and walked at the door. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Fine."

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**AN: **Mercutio was almost dead XD Poor boy… Oh well. Feathers are really sharp! I can tell, I cut my hand one time and it was bleeding like hell O.o Hope you liked it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Teach Me How To…**

**Summary**: Tybalt wants to learn how to write, his parents didn't want to teach him and now his uncle doesn't have time for him. Maybe a cousin of the royal family can help? Tybalt/Mercutio

**AN: **Reviews yeey! **n.n **(hugs the reviewers). I won't keep you up any longer, here's the chapter. Enjoy!

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"How was your first lesson my cousin?"

Tybalt had not yet closed the door or he heard this question come from his uncle. With a click from the door Tybalt banished the sounds outside from the white hall of the Capulet's house and turned around. Juliet was standing next to her father and it seemed they had been talking and had stopped the conversation when Tybalt had entered.

"Ridiculous." He wanted to go to his room above the stairs but his uncle shot another question at him.

"What… how do you mean?"

"I get lessons from that fool Mercutio!" The young Capulet spitted the name out, like it was something dirty in his mouth.

"Sir Mercutio?... Do not talk rubbish! He is the prince's cousin. He is a good young man!"

"In your face, but not behind your back."

Juliet's father frowned and Tybalt continued.

"He is like a lice. One in enough to irritate you, and the sweetest thing imaginable is to get rid of it."

"My, my, Tybalt! Do not speak such hard words!"

Tybalt's face darkened. He couldn't believe his own uncle chose Mercutio's side. Almost everyone thought of Mercutio as the enthusiastic, young man who liked to have fun and joke around. The view of Tybalt was completely different from most people and he shared this view with his friends and some few other Capulets. Mercutio was an arrogant, irritating, rude and foolish child.

Child, though they shared the same age.

"Dear nephew, you wounded yourself?" Juliet's voice sounded soft and worried when it seemed neither of the two men would say anything more.

Tybalt's face softened again as he took a look at Julia's face and followed her eyes to his own hand which he had cut a few minutes back. "From a thorn of the bushes with roses near the river." The fact that his hand was wounded because of a quill was something Tybalt wouldn't rather say, even to Juliet. Juliet was one of the few people Tybalt cared about and sometimes it was like they were brother and sister.

The young Capulet saw Juliet still watching his hand. "The bandages were given by an old lady who passed and was so kind to give them."

Juliet seemed to take that as a believable story as she raised her head and nodded. Tybalt made a little bow to his uncle and niece and walked to his room, feeling the eyes of his uncle burned in his back. He shut the door and sat down on his bed. It was still early in the afternoon, the black haired didn't had any sleep so he leaned back till he was lying with his back on his bed. His eyes stared at the light green ceiling as he laid his hand on his forehead. The bandages brushed against his pale skin making his thoughts to drift off to a time long passed.

_A six year old boy ran trough a garden, the sun shining in his beautiful black hair. Further away there was a woman sitting on a white chair. She had the same breathtaking colour of hair as the young boy. But her face was one that looked like it had never smiled, never laughed before. Her blue eyes looked at the grass coldly and the sun didn't seem to warm her skin. _

_Suddenly the boy fell, his knee hitting a rock in the progress._

_First he laid still on his stomach, his face in the grass. Then he started to sob silently and the sobs ended with heartbreaking crying like only a child can produce. _

_A normal mother would go to her child, bring it back on his feet and tell him it didn't matter. Instead of doing that the woman gave the crying boy a disgusted look._

"_Stand up you."_

_The boy sat up, still crying murder and fire, and looked at his knee. It bled only a bit, but enough to make a six year old panic._

"_M-mother…" the child sobbed. "It h-hurts!"_

"_Do not act so childish boy! You can not know what real pain is, you would scream for mercy and death. It is only a little wound. Stand up."_

_The woman stood up and pulled the boy up his feet roughly, receiving more crying from the child. She took the boy's shoulders in her hands tightly and shook him around._

"_You can handle pain. If you are not able, than you are no child of mine."_

"_N-no mother…"_

"_You understand?"_

_The child nodded quickly as the mother let go off him and went back to the chair she left a few seconds ago._

_The mother and the child disappeared as two voices took over. Two voices from a very recent time._

"_If it is deep the wound can get infected."_

"_I am no child."_

"_You will not be able to hold the quill without pain!" The voice said loudly._

"_I can handle pain!" The other voice said even louder._

Tybalt banished the thoughts from his mind as he sat up again. He touched his knee briefly and with this movement his eyes saw the bandages around his hand. In a quick move the black haired ripped them from his hand and threw them behind his bed. The wound itched and he closed his hand to a fist.

"It is only a little wound…" He repeated the words of his mother.

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"Good morning young Capulet!"

The contrast between the two youngsters in the royal hall was enormous.

Mercutio was standing above the stairs, his arms resting on the balcony and his blue, curious eyes looking at the figure bellow. His face was shining like it was the sun itself.

Tybalt stood bellow the stairs, looking at the figure above. But just like the sun's case the Capulet couldn't look at Mercutio without either hurting or irritating his eyes, so he ripped his gaze away quickly. His face was dark like the moon.

He made his way up, passing the prince's cousin and heading towards the room from the other day. Mercutio turned around swiftly, not surprised about not getting a response back and followed the taller youngster.

"Let us get this over with." Tybalt said sitting down behind the desk while Mercutio shut the door.

"The man can talk after all! And here I was thinking I had to teach you how to speak also." Mercutio dropped himself on the couch with surprisingly much grace, crossing his legs and putting his hand under his chin grinning.

"Imbecile…" The Capulet mumbled silently.

"Now, now, there is no reason to get all potty mouth and rude…"

Tybalt raised in his chair dangerously as Mercutio swallowed his words.

"But indeed let us begin." He sat up straight and made a hand gesture to the desk. "As you can see everything is still here. The character _a_ is still available on that parchment and there is a quill for you."

Tybalt picked the quill up and in a few seconds he got it right. There was no way he would make up a scene like the previous day so he had practiced at home. He looked at Mercutio like he was challenging him to say something. But Mercutio only nodded in approval.

"Now, try the character."

The Capulet looked at the little _a _studying, placing every turn and line of it in his mind. He dipped the quill in the ink bottle and brought the pen back to the paper. The start was pretty good but then he accidentally stroked the ink of his previous work away with his hand. Tybalt frowned lightly, raising his hand and looking at the black ink on his hand.

Mercutio clicked his tongue. "Oh yes, I see the problem ahead. Your movement comes from your elbow, making it yourself pretty nasty to handle the quill." He brought a finger to his lips. "What to compare it with… let me see… Ah yes!" He made a hand gesture to Tybalt's rapier on the Capulet's hip. This time Tybalt didn't forgot to bring it with him. "It is just like fighting with the sword. You can make movements with your elbow, but it is clumsy and slovenly. For precise attacks you move with your wrist, having much more control on the sword." He smiled proudly about himself. "You can compare with that."

Tybalt turned back to the paper, moved his wrist a couple of times, putted his hand down and tried again. He was so concentrated on the wrist movement that the character _a _he made didn't really compare with Mercutio's _a_.

"You are good with your rapier, are you not?" Mercutio asked. "How much things are there to concentrate on? One: your enemy's movement with the sword. Two: your movements with the sword. Three: your enemy's footwork. Four: your footwork. Five: …"

"Stop with your annoying blabbering about swords. Just get to the point." Tybalt interrupted roughly.

"Now, now, not a patient fellow are we? Well than: you must be able the concentrate on more than one thing." He clapped his hands once like he had found the solution of the century.

The Capulet slightly, almost invisible, raised his eyebrow. Mercutio saw it nevertheless.

"You wanted it to be short, now you have it and still you are not satisfied."

"The moment I will be satisfied is the moment I will never have to see you again."

"A thorn in my heart, that comment." Mercutio replied mockingly.

"You are not that a good teacher you know."

"Well you are no good apprentice either."

If the whole world had the same horrible silence as the silence in that room, than someone could hear a needle fall in Africa while he was in America. You could cut the tension with a knife. How long would it take before they were fighting again?

"Than let us make sure your satisfying moment comes as soon as possible, hm?"

Mercutio picked another quill from the desk, his hand precisely followed by Tybalt's eyes, together with another piece of parchment. "Look closely." He said shortly. Slowly another character _a _was formed.

Tybalt immediately pulled a piece of parchment close by towards him and exactly rewrote the _a_. He dropped the quill with a thud and crossed his arms. There. He'd done it.

"Good. Now we still only have twenty-five more characters to pass…"

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"Ay Mercutio! Where is your usual face disappeared to?"

Mercutio looked up at his friend Benvolio who was happily twirling around a drink in his hand. Tybalt had left the royal mansion some hours back and Mercutio had decided to go out for the evening to forget the forced hours between him and the Capulet.

"It is somewhere here my dear Benvolio." Mercutio said, tapping his own head. "I had hoped to find it again this evening, but it seems I am mistaken."

"How so?"

And just then Mercutio realized that he hadn't told anyone of his lessons with Tybalt yet. Not even Romeo or Benvolio. How would they react? How would Tybalt react if Mercutio told it to others? Was he scared of Tybalt? No! No hair on his head was afraid of that Capulet.

"Not feeling that well for the entire day." Mercutio made up, taking a sip of his drink to hide the face of the lie he carried now.

"Is that why you were out of sight for the whole day long?"

"Yes… yes exactly…"

"Mercutio you are terrible absent. Would it not be best if you would just return home?"

Did Benvolio believe him? Or did he know Mercutio was lying and was he just playing stupid? Mercutio couldn't tell. He decided it was safer to follow his friend's advice and go home. He stood up from his chair and stroke his hand trough his own brown hair, just to give himself an attitude.

"I agree that is the best thing to do."

"I need to walk you home?"

"No, please, do not bother about me." Every second he stayed with Benvolio surrounded by his lie, he felt more hatred about his mistrust in his friend. He forced a smile upon his face. "I will find the way back like I always do." He turned away from Benvolio, said goodbye to everyone he knew in the room and disappeared out of the tavern.

Mercutio closed the door behind him, muffling the happy, mostly drunk voices away. He stroke trough his hair again in combination with a loud sigh. "Curse you cat prince." The youngster walked away from the tavern, the warm evening breeze of Verona touching his cheeks. It would take 15 minutes to get home again, but that was no real problem for the prince's cousin. Or so did he think at that moment.

He was halfway when the silence of the evening was interrupted by voices. Mostly it was Mercutio ruining the peace and quiet of Verona, so he stood still, curious who his 'successor' was. It was like a big piece of ice fell down his stomach when he saw a group of men with in the middle no one else than Tybalt himself. It was clearly Tybalt was in charge of the group although he didn't make any sound whatsoever, his friends and family members around him were making enough for him.

"Like the devil is playing tricks on me." Mercutio mumbled.

"Good evening there! If it is not our friend of Montague!" The man next to Tybalt yelled when he saw Mercutio.

Tybalt's head shot up to see Mercutio standing a few feet away. Though he wasn't, the prince's cousin looked relaxed as ever. He made a big bow.

"Gentlemen of the Capulet house!" He avoided eye contact with Tybalt, although he couldn't give a reason for this decision. It was like, if he would look at Tybalt, that everyone would see what they were hiding. "You are making a fine trip I see."

"A fine trip indeed!" The same man replied. "But it seems we have some interruption on the way." The man's hand found it's way to the rapier on his hip. Some others in the Capulet group followed his example. "Maybe we should be so kind to erase this obstacle?"

Some of the group laughed. Tybalt's face looked emotionless, _like always_, Mercutio thought, _nothing or anger and hate_. "Maybe kind but not too bright." Mercutio said.

The man unsheathed his rapier and took a step towards Mercutio, who brought his hand to his weapon as well. Tybalt's hand shot up to the man's shoulder. The man looked around at the black haired surprised. "What is wrong sir Tybalt, you of all people calling me to halt?"

Tybalt let go off the man, stepped out of the group and walked till he was halfway the distance between the Capulet group and Mercutio who still had the rapier ready to attack. He made a hand gesture to Mercutio but did not look at him. "Why dirty your hands with filth? His blood will make your weapons worthless and unclean for life. Leave the clown for what he is, destiny will take him soon enough."

Mumbling rose out of the group. "Now go on, and let this being rot." Tybalt ended.

Mercutio tabbed his fingers on his rapier. Whatever Tybalt was trying to achieve, he wasn't afraid to do it the hard way. The group moved on slowly and passed Mercutio. "Go on, I will be there soon." Tybalt said silently, pushing his friends and family members further gently. The group finally disappeared out of sight, leaving Tybalt and Mercutio behind on the street. They stared at each other's feet for a reason none of both knew.

"You do have a nice way of helping people out, do you not?" Mercutio asked Tybalt's shoes.

"Be glad I was prepared to do."

"And why were you prepared to do?"

"We still have to pass twenty-five characters and a whole lot more."

At last they both looked up, but none of them said anything more.

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**AN:** And there we have the end of this chapter! About that dream/memory thing of Tybalt: I know we don't get any information about Tybalt's parents whatsoever in the play. For this 'horrible-parents' situation I based myself on the musical I saw (singing Mercutio and Tybalt! Rrraw!), cause there is a solo Tybalt sings (I'm going to translate the Dutch text to English) called 'It's not my fault' and the song goes like this:

Memories that you make up  
How pretty are they  
Your youth is like a song that sounds  
You never forget her  
Still I feel her robbed from me  
I have lost her  
The hate has murdered my youth  
I'm so sorry

They told me a truth  
That was a lie  
The innocence I've lost then  
I understand now at last  
And so this bow grey up  
Without much emotion  
The child in me died slowly  
That was their purpose

Cold, it is cold here  
Cold, always too cold

It's not my fault (2x)  
My parents made me the way I am  
And what you see isn't beautiful  
It's not my fault (2x)  
They sow the hate in me  
Provoked all the evil in me  
It's not my fault  
Don't look at me reproachful now  
It's not my fault  
I did not do the world any harm  
I only followed the path  
That they preceded before me

Gets you depressed and feel sorry for the poor Capulet, does it not? It sure gets that effect with me. But now you know why I wrote what I wrote and why I will write more like this in the future. I guess I have to change humor to drama...  
I know you probably wonder "**Where the hell does the slash pops up at last?**" and I understand that completely. However I refuse to write a slash fic all out of the blue. They don't like each other, people that don't like each other won't have sex when you just put them together in one room (unfortunately XD…). They have to start loving each other in steps. It would be much nicer for all of us if they hade just humped each other in the first chap, but that's just not the way the cookie crumbles…  
But I promise that, when they made the step from hate to love, that there will be much sweet loving X3  
Till the next chapter! I hope you liked this one!


	4. Chapter 4

**Teach Me How To…**

**Summary**: Tybalt wants to learn how to write, his parents didn't want to teach him and now his uncle doesn't have time for him. Maybe a cousin of the royal family can help? Tybalt/Mercutio

**AN: **Hi dear readers! Here is an update! I know it's a short one and I'm sorry about that… but enjoy it anyway!

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The tension was high like always in the study room of the royal family. Mercutio leaned with his back against the door, while Tybalt sat down on the chair at the desk. Turned towards Mercutio of course.

"Did you have a good trip yesterday evening further?" Mercutio asked, his nose slightly in the air.

"Not that you need to know, but yes." Although he was sitting, Tybalt made a far more dominant and dangerous impression than the standing Mercutio. It were his eyes and the way his shoulders were tensed.

"Saved any other passing-byes?"

"You are still talking of that?"

"I still talk, correct."

"I can let you get killed the next encounter, if you please."

Mercutio snorted. "Are your people so foolish that they think to get away murdering me? I am the prince's cousin."

"The dead do not speak."

A smirk crossed Mercutio's face. "But they do haunt."

There was no response from Tybalt this time. He demanded progress with his gaze and Mercutio obliged unknowingly. "You proved that you are capable of writing down the character _a_ the other day. According from that you should be able writing the other characters down too. However, I will write them down one after the other and you will look closely how I do this." He walked to the desk, took everything he needed and wrote down _a_ again.

"So, this is _a_, then…"

Mercutio wrote down the whole alphabet, slowly and with pauses between each character. After he had done this, he pulled another chair to the desk and placed it as far as he could from the Capulet. Tybalt on his turn spontaneously moved aside as well, making Mercutio sit at one corner of the desk and Tybalt himself at the other.

"Good." Mercutio said rather ambiguous. "I will give this paper with you at your departure so you can practice at home. But of course, it would be meaningless to let you write something down without you knowing what."

He turned the paper towards Tybalt.

"I can not see a thing."

"…You have become blind in these few seconds?"

"I can not see what is on the paper, you clown." Tybalt snarled back.

Mercutio placed his chair a few inches closer to the Capulet, who shook his head after seeing the paper again. Mercutio moved another few inches.

"No."

"Maybe you could move closer too?" Mercutio growled.

"I do not have to do anything for you."

Mercutio felt like throwing with his chair, but took a deep breath instead. The young man's stubbornness made him move no inch further. In Tybalt's case it was his ego that caused him to stay at his corner of the desk.

"It is not my problem but yours, you just keep that in mind."

Tybalt didn't seem impressed by this fact and remained on his position. Mercutio turned the paper back to him anyway and pointed at the _b _next to the _a_.

"This, whether you can see it or not, is a _b_. As in _blood_."

His finger trailed off to the _c_. "This is a _c_, as in _Capulet_."

Automatically both of them leaned forward in their chair so Tybalt could see the characters after all. "_D_, as in _death_."

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In the late afternoon Tybalt had arrived back home again. The piece of paper with all the characters on it was clenched in his fist, so no one could see it. He directly made his way up to his room and sat down at his desk. He copied the whole thing more than ten times till he was rather satisfied with the result and then he started to search words for each character.

"_K_… Capulet?... No, that fool said it was written with a _c_. It sounds the same, maybe my pronouncement is wrong…" He ran his hand trough his hair pondering. "I am certain I am not wrong. Never mind…"

He looked at the _l_. "_L_… lonely."

His eyes rested on the next character for a while.

M.

"Mercutio…"

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"I am in love! Truly and honestly!"

Benvolio and Mercutio looked at Romeo, who was almost dancing out of joy. They were sitting on the stairs of Verona's square. A soft breeze sometimes passed the friends to disappear and come back again some time later. It was a peaceful place to be at that moment.

"How many times have we heard that before?" Benvolio laughed at his cousin.

"I will take a guess at… let me think… _too much_." Mercutio replied.

"Do not be like that! If you would know this happiness, then you would not speak those words. She is the most beautiful vision of whole Verona and further. A pleasure for the eye and more."

"Who is this girl than?"

"Olivia."

Mercutio snorted loudly. "She? Dear Romeo what happened to your eyes! She has never been the most beautiful vision and will never be that either."

Romeo didn't seem to hear the comment. "If only she would smile at me and give me her heart, so I could give mine in return. That world of dreams would be the one of pure love. But I fear that I am not worthy."

"I think it is the other way around." Mercutio mumbled and he received laughing from Benvolio.

This time Romeo's attention got turned to Mercutio's comments after all. "Please Mercutio my friend, how can you know of what you talk when you have never experienced it?"

"You have experienced it enough for whole Verona for that matter."

"No seriously. I can not remember one single time that you have said anything about love."

"Except that you think it is a foolish thing." Benvolio added.

"And it is!" Mercutio said quickly and loud. "Love is for those with a foolish heart, for the ones who do not think properly. It is an illusion. A bird that sits on a branch and then flies away into the clouds again to stop at the next tree."

"Is it possible? You must have been in love once, no?

"Not even in my dreams."

"You are lying!"

"Would I ever lie to you, my dear Romeo?"

Mercutio secretly wished that this conversation would end. The only time he had _felt_ something was with Romeo himself. He didn't even know if that feeling was supposed to _be_ love. How did it feel? If he had to believe Romeo's theories about love then he 'would know it at the moment itself'.

A vague theory about a vague subject.

He had noticed that 'that feeling' he had felt for Romeo had faded away after a while and had disappeared into nothing but just friendship.

And it just didn't seem right to feel things for someone from the same gender. Men had to be with women, women had to be with men, and that was that. Mercutio knew no man who was in love with another man, or a woman with another woman. He wondered why.

Wasn't love for _people_?

Just people. Regardless from their gender. Just like people with a different colour of skin but who were still just people, like himself, Romeo and Benvolio or whoever in Verona. People were equal to each other, no? Or was he wrong?

An image of Tybalt came before his eyes.

Was the Capulet equal to him? For he was human too?

Mercutio found himself doubting his own theory from before now he had put Tybalt in it. Honestly Tybalt wasn't equal to him?

Tybalt was just…

Tybalt.

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	5. Chapter 5

**Teach Me How To…**

**Summary**: Tybalt wants to learn how to write, his parents didn't want to teach him and now his uncle doesn't have time for him. Maybe a cousin of the royal family can help? Tybalt/Mercutio

**AN: **Pretty large update: 7 full pages in 'Microsoft Word' and that with some rather big blocks of text in it! Good news too, the _slashness_ will rise in this chapter! Hope you like it!

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You could say that the two youngster's behaviour towards each other was changing in some good way. The usual nasty remarks and mocking were erased and replaced by silence. Mercutio would mostly be the only one talking as he was supposed to be explaining theories and rules to Tybalt. The Capulet on his turn only spoke to answer. They advanced quickly thanks to Mercutio's talking-and-explaining-abilities and thanks to Tybalt's will to be good in everything.

"I know we have done this a lot of times, but we have to be sure you know the characters and have them inside your head. I will say different characters, you write them down and then give me a word that begins with it."

Without waiting for any approving action from Tybalt, Mercutio leaned back on the couch and said the first character. "Let us begin with… _S_!"

Tybalt moved his quill on the parchment before him. "Satan."

"Let me see."

Those words reminded both of them of their first lesson when Tybalt had cut himself and had refused to let Mercutio look at the wound. Something tensed up in the Capulet's shoulders and Mercutio could feel it as if they were his own.

"… to be sure you have got it right."

With a small movement Tybalt tilted the parchment up to Mercutio. The _s _stood alone on what looked like a large yellow surrounding, but clearly and correct. Mercutio nodded slightly. "Now… _F_."

More movements of the quill, followed by the Capulet's hand to show his result to the teacher he hadn't wished for. "Failure."

"Yes… U?"

"Useless."

"Yes, good! It would be _useless_ to ask further for you seem to know how it works."

At the moment, neither of them realized that Mercutio actually had given Tybalt a compliment. Any other habitant of Verona would have thought he was dreaming while being awake and would have probably slapped himself.

"Of course."

"…Since the excellent teacher you have got." Mercutio praised himself grinning.

Tybalt snorted. "Rather since the student I am."

Maybe the mocking hadn't died out after all. Mercutio kept grinning.

"As you have probably noticed, there are many characters that sound the same depending the words they are in. There are no real rules for it, you just have to memorize all of them. Like in the word…" Mercutio putted his finger to his lips in thought.

"…Why do you always do that?" Tybalt asked, troubling Mercutio's thinking process.

"What is _that_?" Mercutio asked confused.

"Whenever in thought, you always do this." The Capulet mimicked Mercutio by putting a finger on his lips.

Mercutio seemed rather taken back by this comment. He looked at his finger like he had just noticed it for the very first time. He continued staring at it for a while and then finally decided to lower his hand next to his hip. A cough escaped his mouth.

"Well?" Tybalt repeated. "Why?"

"How do you mean _why_? …It is just something I do. What are you doing? Observing me?"

"Half of the time."

"Why?"

"It is just something I do."

It was always a challenge to see who would win a 'conversation' like the previous one. This time Tybalt seemed to have the winning hand. For a moment Mercutio had seem to forgotten what he was talking about a few seconds back, then he quickly spoke again.

"A good example of such a word and character is…"

"Capulet?" Tybalt said. How he enjoyed the way Mercutio was acting right now thanks to his doing. The problem was that Mercutio noticed this and it made him feel only more uncomfortable, and mostly angrier, by the second.

"… yes, that is indeed a good example, the…"

"_C_ sounds the same as the _k_?"

Mercutio's eyes narrowed and his relaxed attitude disappeared completely now. A smirk slightly curled up on Tybalt's face. The prince's cousin stood up abruptly, almost immediately followed by Tybalt. They looked at each other, Mercutio looking lusty for a fight. For someone else it would have been hard to say what the actual problem between the two youngsters was all of a sudden. Hadn't Tybalt just 'answered' correctly? For someone who knew the two men it would be clear that Mercutio blamed the Capulet for embarrassing him while he was supposed to be the student and not the teacher.

"I think the moment you have to leave has reached this moment." Mercutio said loudly.

"I have just arrived." Tybalt replied, softly, and therefore more threatening. "Let us not stop, but take a break instead, leave our thoughts from the art of writing." His eyes trailed off to the rapier on Mercutio's hip. "Maybe reset our thoughts on the art of swordsmanship?"

"One of the finest ideas you have set up. We shall go to the garden."

The youngsters marched trough the halls, their footsteps sounded like drums of war. For the first time it was Mercutio's face and not the one of Tybalt that seemed to be made of steel and the smirk that usually played on Mercutio's lips was given to Tybalt. A warm afternoon breeze passed them as Mercutio pushed open the door roughly. Two guards, who were each standing at an opposite side of the door, looked at their superior and his guest in surprise.

"Do not step away from your post, whether you hear or see something strange, yes or no, do not: that is an order. A second and last order is that you, despite the fact God has given you a mouth, a pair of eyes, a pair of hands… you will not use anything to inform my uncle about my whereabouts and doings. Is that clear and understood?"

"Yes, sir Mercutio!" The guards made a light bow and then returned to their static appearance again.

Mercutio gestured Tybalt to follow him, making a clicking sound with his fingers. They took a side path that bordered the main road that led to the front door with the guards. Walking in silence for almost five minutes, and that all in just one garden, they finally arrived at an open spot surrounded by trees, making it impossible for someone to see what was happening on the actual spot itself. The prince's cousin made his way to the other side, already unsheathing his rapier in the process.

Tybalt didn't hesitate to pull out his beloved sword as well. "Your confidence in an untrue victory is your armour?"

"Armour is unnecessary for both you and I. Swordsmanship was taught to me by one of the best rapier masters in whole Italy. And you have eight of your nine lives to spill before you draw your last breath."

"Is this a fight on life or death?" Tybalt seemed to like that idea at the moment, certainly after this numberless cat-comment.

"Certainly not. There is another purpose for our position that you are ought to know and I believe, no, I am certain, that you know."

"Oh no, tell me and I shall let you know if I know what you tell."

Mercutio tilted up his rapier to chest height. "Let my sword tell you what this purpose is."

He strode forward, stretching his arm out to extend the length of his range. The Capulet blocked the introduction attack, pushing Mercutio a few steps back. Another try from Mercutio was stopped by Tybalt. And just like they had made a deal about it, they both started to do combo attacks and blocks repeatedly. Mercutio blocked the Capulet's strikes and pushed his rapier on the ground with his own. For a few seconds they stood face to face, their noses almost touching till Tybalt jumped back quickly and unexpectedly, making Mercutio stagger for a moment. Tybalt slammed his shoulder against Mercutio's who had lost his balance almost completely now, his rapier tilted in the air and waving around.

Mercutio tried to get back on both of his feet, uncontrollably leaning back and forward when suddenly Tybalt made a strike which was supposed to stop in front of Mercutio's chest to guaranty his victory. But because of the temporary error in Mercutio's balance, the youngster leaned forward at just the moment Tybalt made the strike. The Capulet's rapier ended up in Mercutio's face. He could feel it tear through the soft skin of his opponent, but for the first time Tybalt didn't find pleasure in this feeling, but fear.

As if in slow-motion Mercutio spun and fell on his stomach in the grass. His hand and rapier separated as the weapon was thrown away a few feet further against the trees.

The body made a soft thud in the grass and then it remained still.

Tybalt looked at the figure in front of him, who's face was lying flat in the green grass of the garden. The garden of the royal family where he had just send one of them to the ground: the prince's cousin for Christ's sake. And that was the reason for the Capulet's fear. He wouldn't have cared so much if this had happened on the streets, there would be other people to take care of it. Did _he_ have to help him now? Or just leave him there after all? If he did help him then people would ask questions about what had happened. Those answers would have, probably, horrible consequences. Tybalt didn't even know how bad Mercutio's state was. Maybe he had killed him.

"Mercutio?"

No answer or movement.

The Capulet's eyes shot up as if he had the feeling whole Verona was watching him.

"… for the love of God."

Tybalt walked towards Mercutio's figure, putting his own rapier down. He slowly kneeled next to him and gave Mercutio a push on the shoulder. But there was still no response. Carefully, like he would break Mercutio's back if he would do it any faster, he grabbed his opponent's shoulders and turned him around.

On the moment he would have seen Mercutio's face, Mercutio's fist shot upwards, hitting Tybalt on the cheek at full force. The Capulet fell on his back, grabbing his face and then quickly crawling up again to see Mercutio sitting on the ground, covering half of his face as well. For some seconds Tybalt was so surprised that he just stared at Mercutio till realisation finally hit him… just like Mercutio's fist had done.

"You filthy rat, spreading the plague secretly. How dare you to perform such a low action!"

Mercutio let out some kind of weak, mocking laugh. His voice was trembling a bit as if he had run trough the whole garden. "Call it a counter-attack, for you stepped on my tail."

He removed his hand from the left side of his face. A thin, but rather heavy bleeding wound had made itself owner of the young man's face. The cut started at the left corner of his mouth, continued across his whole cheek and passed his left eye with only a few millimetres between the wound and the eye. It would have been a small matter of a few micro seconds and Mercutio would have lost his eye.

Tybalt looked at the result of his doing, secretly letting out a relieved sigh. "Now what?"

"Now?" Mercutio said. "We will try to get inside without anyone seeing the wound, I will hold my hand in front of it. It should work if the blood will not betray us… then… we finish your lesson for today."

He looked around and walked towards the trees to pick up his rapier. Tybalt stared at him. "No act of revenge?"

Mercutio sheathed his rapier. "Capulet, Capulet… your cheek is red as the blood on my cheek now, but it will be blue tomorrow. The act has already happened, it would be foolish of you to take revenge of this act, cause we both know we shall act until someone leaves the stage of life."

The youngster passed Tybalt, already covering his cheek. "Now, let us go."

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Equipped with two bowls of water and two towels, Mercutio and Tybalt found their way back to the study-room. They had tried to evade as much people as possible and had succeeded. The youngest one of the two started to curse when he closed the door behind him. Tybalt looked around.

"I forgot a mirror." Mercutio explained putting the two bowls down.

"Allow me to take care of my doing." Tybalt said, sticking out his hand to receive a towel from the surprised Mercutio.

"… what?"

"My doing is the follow one: a mistake at swordsmanship. As a good swordsman I am ought to repair my mistakes, whatever they are. The wound is the mistake that has to be repaired by me, not for kindness, not for you, let that be clear, but for restoring my swordsman's peace."

Mercutio wanted to protest, but found no other choice if he wanted to take care of the wound properly without leaving the room and avoiding everyone again.

"…fine." He said, clearly not liking the idea as he gave one of the towels to the Capulet.

He sat down on the couch next to the desk and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Tybalt didn't seem to like his own idea either, but he considered the rules of swordsmanship valuable and not to be ignored. Even if they were to be carried out to someone like Mercutio.

With a strong movement he pulled the chair towards him and placed himself in front of Mercutio, resting his knees against the ones of the smaller man. He turned to the desk, dipping a corner of the towel into the water and then gestured Mercutio to lean forward with a movement of his free hand. Tybalt studied the wound closely, his face only a few inches separated from the one of Mercutio. Then he leaned back a bit, placing the wet corner of the towel nearby his patient's eye where the wound started. Mercutio twitched by the touch on the wound and pulled his head back.

"Act like a man for crying out loud." Tybalt said raising an eyebrow.

"It was not in my purpose to do this, it was just a reflex from the pain."

"Than fight it, you are master of your own body."

Mercutio clenched his teeth as Tybalt brought the towel at his face again. But just like before Mercutio twitched as in a reflex to the pain and the fact there was something moving closely next to his eye. Tybalt let out a loud and annoyed sigh, making Mercutio to give him a rebellious look.

"In that case I will fight it for you, since you are not able to."

The prince's cousin almost pulled his head back again when he saw Tybalt's free hand making a way to his face. Forcefully the Capulet took hold of Mercutio's chin, leaning forward again and finally started to take care of the cut properly. Because of Tybalt's iron grip, Mercutio couldn't pull back anymore. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes as a second and only possibility. He felt really uncomfortable, not because of the wound, but because of the Capulet's touch and how he could feel his soft breathing against his face. He found himself thinking that he had expected his hands to be cold, but he could feel the warmth of his fingers clearly pressing against his skin. _Of course_, he thought, _he has blood that gives him warmth just like me and everyone else._ _His behaviour and appearance may be cold, but that does not proofs his body of being cold as well._

"I insure you, you are lucky: this will not turn out to be a scar for the rest of your life. It will heal and disappear completely if you give it time."Tybalt dipped a dry corner from the towel into the water. He found the silence awkward, so he decided to break it.

It seemed Mercutio shared this opinion. "How are you so sure about that?" He opened his eyes carefully like the image of Tybalt would blind him.

Tybalt placed the wet piece of towel on Mercutio's cheek now. This time he kept his eyes open and watched the black haired closely.

"I have seen enough wounds in my life to know what will be a scar and what will not."

For a moment Mercutio thought to trace a very small hint of sadness in the Capulet's voice, but his face was still the ice cold gaze that it always was. He had probably imagined it.

Unfortunately the silence they both wanted to banish came back. Tybalt wiped away the blood on Mercutio's face, repeatedly changing to a clean and not stained piece of towel. He found it stupid but could not help thinking and noticing different things: the texture of Mercutio's skin, long eyelashes… He forced himself to stop studying his patient's face so much and to concentrate on the wound.

He tilted Mercutio's head upwards a bit so he had a clear view on the piece of wound near his mouth. Mercutio clenched his teeth more fiercely when the towel was brought to the wound again.

This movement made Tybalt to look up into Mercutio's eyes. They made eye-contact and remained staring at each other, as if they were searching for something in each other's eyes.

"The blade came from an angle, and was hold in such a position, that I will not leave a scar. The only problem is that you are not able to cover up the wound, unless you would bandage half your face." It was Tybalt who stopped the moment by pushing his chair back and putting the blood stained towel down on the desk. "You will have to clean out the wound certainly once a day, maybe more."

The Capulet didn't even bother to banish the brown haired from his eyesight for a moment as he looked at the second, not used bowl. Mercutio touched his own chin carefully, feeling Tybalt's fingers burned in it and he felt the absence of Tybalt's knees against his own. He noticed Tybalt looking at the bowl and pulled it towards him, receiving Tybalt's gaze again. He took the not used towel as well and dipped it into the cold, clean water. He folded the towel up as much as possible and then reached it out to Tybalt, who took it slowly and not-understanding.

"Hold it against your face. It is not that cold, but cold enough to possibly help, so your cheek does not get the size of an apple." He forced his usual smirk upon his face, leaning back in the couch again.

Tybalt seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then decided to push the towel against his cheek after all. They made eye-contact again, this time from a further distance but still intense like the previous one.

Now it was Mercutio who stopped it. "You… have my gratitude." It almost sounded unnatural, but yet honest at the same time.

Tybalt turned his face away. He took a quill in his hand. "Let us continue."

Mercutio smirked. He hadn't expected otherwise from the Capulet.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Teach Me How To…**

**Summary**: Tybalt wants to learn how to write, his parents didn't want to teach him and now his uncle doesn't have time for him. Maybe a cousin of the royal family can help? Tybalt/Mercutio

**AN: **Hello there my dear readers! I want to say something before I write on… I know almost everyone will skip it, but hell, I tried!  
**Fyren** was kind enough to mention **writing** **errors** in my chapters. To my, very unpleasant, surprise I saw that there were way too much! I want to apologize for them but want to mention another thing at the same time: I am from Belgium and therefore my language is not English, but **Dutch**. Fyren didn't knew this, so I guess most of you don't know it as well. So again sorry and don't be too hard for me: I have a good excuse. I edited chapter five and it should have less mistakes now. Again thanks to Fyren.  
Here's the new chap, have fun!

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"My friend Mercutio, your face!"

"Why thank you Benvolio dear, I love you too..."

"I mean the scar!"

Mercutio had two options after the fight with Tybalt. One: he could stay inside and wait till his scar had healed and had disappeared. Or two: he could ignore it and go outside to his friends. It was a complicated choice for him. Mercutio was no inside-man, he wanted freedom. He hated limits and closed doors. The scar would take more than weeks to heal. But if he would get his 'freedom', he would get confronted with his friends, and there was no way he could hide the wound for them.

Mercutio, the careless man he was, chose option 2.

He had met Benvolio at Verona's square and they still were at the same location.

"Ooooooh… this?" He made it sound terribly unimportant, poking his own cheek.

"Yes that. What happened?"

"Does it matter?" Before Benvolio had a chance to answer, Mercutio answered his own question. "No it does not!" With big steps he made his way to a fountain, followed hastily by Benvolio.

"Why does it not matter?"

"Because I say so. It is my scar, on my face, from my body, with my will, so I choose when it does matter, yes or no." Mercutio putted his hands together, shaped as a bowl and threw water into his face, to cool himself off.

"But…"

Now Mercutio threw water into Benvolio's face, who got a great amount of it in his mouth. He spitted it out and made some steps back from surprise.

"No 'but-s'. Just be silent will you?" Mercutio said, sitting down on the fountain. "You act like I am dead."

"Could you have been?" Benvolio asked, spitting the last bit of water out.

"Maybe. But if a star falls out off the sky right now, right on top of my head…" Mercutio illustrated it with his hands; pointing at the air and patting his own head. "… I might be dead too."

"What is your point?"

Not only was Mercutio an outside-man, he was also a man of riddles. And riddles can be hard.

"There is no second in this life where I can not lose it."

"Stars do not just fall from the skies, just like scars do not just appear on a face." Benvolio placed his hands on his hips.

"Sais who?"

Benvolio chuckled. "Have you ever seen stars falling out off the sky?"

"What is not, can be later." The simply response came with an o so innocent smirk.

A loud sigh escaped Benvolio's throat. Mercutio was unbelievable. If he couldn't win a discussion, then he would spin and turn it till he could. He sat down next to his friend.

"There is something that you are not telling me. And not just the scar, but the past few days."

Mercutio could feel something tumble inside of him, though he did not show it. Nonchalantly he shook his head, throwing the hair out of his face.

"How do you mean?"

"You… act differently. Like something is troubling you and you do not know how to handle it. Something unpleasant and new."

It was like Benvolio knew it all. He knew Mercutio was holding something back and that he was not completely honest with him. And Mercutio was sick of lying to his best friends, but he refused to tell the Tybalt-story to them. He had to think and act quickly: say something that wasn't a lie, but still not the truth.

"You are right." Mercutio answered.

Benvolio was taken back for a moment. Mercutio was seldom straight to the point. "… Well tell me then."

Mercutio took a deep breath. "My uncle brought a cat with him into our home."

"A cat?" Benvolio raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, a cat. A black one, very black. With the most piercing eyes you have ever seen."

"Why did he do that?"

"He thought it was a good idea to give it to me. I try to teach the cat something."

"You are teaching a _cat_?" If Benvolio's eyebrows could have raised any higher, they would have done that.

"Yes."

"…What can you teach to a cat?"

"Different things."

"And what are you trying to teach it now?"

Mercutio raised his shoulders. "Writing."

"_Writing_?... A _cat_?" Benvolio chuckled again.

"It is a very strange cat. I feel that it wants to learn writing…" He stroked his fingers through his hair. "But the cat does not get along with me. Not at all. So it scratched me."

Benvolio looked at his friend. It was crazy and unbelievable, but he was listening to Mercutio after all. Mercutio would even try to teach rope skipping to a horse for that matter. And no one would be able to get the idea out of his head.

"That is one nasty and false cat you have got there." Benvolio looked at the scar. "I would get rid of it if I were you, certainly after that."

"It is a nasty one, yes. And false… but not always. No, not always." Mercutio started to ponder in his own thoughts. "And black… very black…"

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"Yes?" Tybalt turned around on his seat and dropped the quill in his hand. He didn't had any idea how much he had already done it, but he was writing the whole alphabet down again. Until someone knocked the door of his chamber.

The door went open carefully and Juliet's head popped inside, her eyes searching the room till she had found her beloved cousin. The rest of her body followed into the room as she smiled sweetly. "Good day cousin Tybalt. I was hoping to have some words with you."

Tybalt nodded and stood up from his chair, offering the seat to his niece. She closed the door and took place, facing Tybalt who sat on his bed now.

"What is it you want to talk about, my dearest Juliet?" Juliet was the only one who got some kind of love from Tybalt. In spite of that, she had never seen him smile. She thought nobody had.

"It is just that I have not seen you in a long while. Because of your writing lessons."

"Oh yes, indeed, it has been a long while."

Juliet's eyes scanned Tybalt's desk and rested on the parchments that were all covered with characters from the alphabet. Tybalt felt an impulse to pull the parchments away from his niece, finding it awkward to let her see something like that. Something in which her strong, older cousin failed at while she mastered it for maybe years. Juliet looked up again.

"Do not mind me asking. How are the lessons going?"

Tybalt looked at his pillow. "We have just finished the alphabet."

"You get lessons from sir Mercutio, not?"

"You do not have to call him 'sir'." He looked up again.

"But he is a part of the royal family."

"It is no title that suits him, so you should not call him that."

Juliet nodded, a bit startled of Tybalt's reaction. "You do not find friendship in him?"

"You could state it like that."

Juliet seemed to hesitate about something, but then she spoke. "… I only saw him once, two years ago when I was eleven. Father had organized a party and had invited the prince and his family. Sir… no-I mean Mercutio was also there. Half of the party was looking at him with sympathy and love. The other half with disgust and hate."

"And I was with the other half."

"Why was that?"

"You, who has seen him, should now why, you are clever enough." He stroked his chin. "He is a friend of the Montague family. He is loud, annoying and rude. You need no other arguments than those." His hand touched his slightly swollen cheek.

"You do not feel sympathy for him, yet he is your mentor."

"Remember that I did not wanted to give him that position." Juliet, who was looking at her knees, received a little tick of Tybalt on her hands which made her look up. "I wished you were in his place."

Juliet smiled again. "Yes, it is such a long time we did something together, just the two of us."

Tybalt felt better seeing his niece's smile. But the smile faded away and Juliet's eyes were looking at her knees again. "Father is searching a good man to marry me and to be my husband." In the past few seconds her voice had changed from tone dramatically. First the almost chanting tone of a child, and now the tone of an older, tiered woman.

Tybalt looked at Juliet intensely. "I know. You should not have to worry, your father will only choose a man that deserves you."

This didn't seem to cheer up or comfort Juliet. This vision of her left Tybalt remembering how young his niece was, and how vulnerable and innocent. She did not know the dark sides of life like he did. He lifted his hand, stroking her long brown hair softly.

"And even if he should pick you a wrong man, which I highly doubt, but if he would otherwise: I will be the one sending that man flying away to a place where they not know of Verona, kicking with my feet if I have to."

Juliet laughed at this, glad to have her cousin's support. Then she rose from her seat carefully, automatically followed by Tybalt who had pulled his hand back. She took a step towards the door, stopped and then she turned back to Tybalt. She embraced him, pushing her face into his chest and holding his shoulders tightly, as if Juliet was afraid to be pulled away from him. Tybalt looked down at her puzzled and for a moment he didn't knew what to do. Eventually he decided it was a good idea to stroke her hair again, even more carefully then he did before.

"Thank you." She said into his chest.

"Everything for you."

Juliet pulled back, Tybalt's hand floating in the air for two seconds where her head had been. This time she made it to the door and opened it. Again she seemed to hesitate about something but just like before said it after all. "Would you like to go into town with me tomorrow? Like we always used to do?"

Tybalt looked at the papers on his desk. He had writing lessons that day. But the choice between Juliet and Mercutio was easy to make for him. "I would love to."

Juliet smiled again, closing the door. Tybalt could hear her footsteps fading away, just like he could feel her warmth removing from his chest.

He was cold.

And black. Very black.

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**AN: **Another AN: look at me go! I just wanted to say something more, regarding this chapter and it seemed best to do this after the actual chapter.

I know it was a short one and nothing really 'happened' in it. Yet it is an important chapter, in my opinion. Don't forget our two lover-boys have a world beside their own as well (smirk). And those worlds have influence on each other which should be mentioned, certainly with a theme like this.

About the part with Tybalt and how he acts towards Juliet: Shakespeare fics are hard to write because his characters have no real constant attitude. Take Hamlet as an example: everyone knows he's crazy; but what kind of crazy? Quietly and serious like Mel Gibson's Hamlet? Or loud and funny like Kenneth Branagh's Hamlet? And let us not forget all those hundred other people who played Hamlet. So in fact you get hundred different attitudes for only one character. Mostly they are only a little bit different from each other, there's always some big line everyone automatically follows (Hamlet's craziness for example again), so you already have to do something terribly wrong to write OOC with Shakespeare fics.  
I have seen 5 different 'Tybalts' (two musicals, two movies and the actual written play). The two musicals are practically the same. I saw much from the French version and I went to see the Dutch one twice. The Dutch Tybalt got more of my respect than the French one though. They were both very violent and cruel (the guy is almost laughing his ass off when he stabs Mercutio) and he is even _in love_ with Juliet. I hated the Tybalt from the movie with Leonardo DC, I didn't even bother watching the whole thing. The Tybalt-version of the other movie (from 1968) sometimes gave me the impression to be friends with Mercutio. He loved Juliet like a sister. The actual play is always a riddle cause you don't get emotions, you just have to guess how they say things.  
For this fic I have taken a Tybalt between the musical one and the movie from 1968. Therefore his love towards Juliet as his sister. And because I love it when characters that always are mean and cold get a certain part where they appear to have emotions after all.

God, this AN is almost as long at the chapter itself (laugh). And I'm still not ready tormenting you, my dearest reader! **I want to share some things with you!**

I'm always talking about this musical version and I almost dare to bet that none of you has actually seen it. I'm going to change that, or at least for a part! I'll give you two scenes from the French version: the fight between Mercutio and Tybalt and Mercutio's death.  
I already said I like the Dutch version more (mostly because I think Mercutio is a real babe there (laughs)). There are no real good videos of this version so I'll just give you two pics of how they look like:  
/romeojuliademusical/solofotos.msnw?actionShowPhoto&PhotoID488 (**put groups. msn. com before it (no www.)**), FFnet does not allow links...) This is Mercutio (and how I always imagine him, he made me fall in love with the character and he's the first Mercutio I saw)  
/romeojuliademusical/solofotos.msnw?actionShowPhoto&PhotoID530 (**same **here) This is Tybalt (I always imagine him younger than he is here)

/watch?vd9WeVGH2FY (**don't forget to put youtube. com before it (and the www.)**)this is their fight: you are lucky, it has subtitles! (cheers) Mercutio is the bald guy who's singing first. Tybalt is the one with the long blond hair and beard (he sings after Mercutio). The guy with the long hair in a pony tail who sings after Tybalt is Romeo. Benvolio is the one in the lighter blue outfit who's holding Romeo's hand somewhere around 02:16.  
/watch?vNAEct3coiM (**same **here) this is Mercutio's death (whimpers). Unfortunately this doesn't has subtitles. But, with the little French knowledge I have and with what I remember from the Dutch version, I will try to translate it as good as possible.

Romeo: (catching Mercutio) "Mercutio…"  
Mercutio: "Noooo!" (runs away) "Romeo... "  
Romeo: "Mercutio…" (looks at the blood on his hands) "Mercutio you are wounded!"  
Mercutio: "No! Who is able to harm Mercutio now? (Tybalt throws the knife on the ground) Why are you so clumsy Romeo? That knife was meant for you!"  
Romeo: "But I thought…"  
Mercutio: "No! I'm leaving. (walks towards Romeo) You'll be always without me now…"  
Romeo: "Mercutio…"  
Mercutio: (walking back to Benvolio again) "No, no apologies! Apologies are only for little children. And Juliet loves a man!  
Tybalt: (laughing)  
Mercutio: "Love Juliet Romeo." (collapses into Benvolio's arms)  
Benvolio: "Mercutio!"  
Romeo: (runs towards them) "Mercutio!"  
Mercutio: "Love her with whole your heart. She shall give you what no woman could ever give me."  
Benvolio: "Mercutio!"  
Mercutio: (singing) "I bite the dust now, although you are so close. Romeo, you are my brother no? How will you go on without me? I am dying, while you live, live on without me. I'll wait at the other side, I'll wait there. (jumps up) Continue our battle! Continue without me… I die in the gutter, but I die as a king. I curse your families! (Tybalt wants to attack Mercutio again but is stopped by his friends) I curse your houses. Romeo… (He embraces Death (the woman in white) slowly) I lose, and never come home again.  
Romeo: "Mercutio…" (catches Mercutio) "No Mercutio!" (lies him down)  
Villagers: (start to scream ("Mercutio!" "No!"))  
Romeo: "Mercutio... Mercutio, Mercutio! Mercutio don't leave me! Mercutio! Mercutio I beg you! Mercutio!" (singing) "Who knows how much love you felt for me? (Tybalt finally realizes what he has done) God, life on earth is not worth much, …wooooooooooh!"  
Romeo: (running towards Tybalt with the dagger) "Tybalt! Tybalt! Tybalt!" (stabs him)  
Benvolio: (pulling Mercutio's clothes, not accepting he is dead)  
Romeo: (singing) "God, life on earth is not worth much…"  
Romeo: (running towards Mercutio) "Farewell my friend… Farewell…"

Please tell me I'm not the only one who feels like bursting into tears when seeing Benvolio pulling Mercutio's clothes?

Okay, I'll shut up now, I think my AN is longer than the chapter now!

Let me know what you think of the movies and the pics!


	7. Chapter 7

**Teach Me How To…**

**Summary**: Tybalt wants to learn how to write, his parents didn't want to teach him and now his uncle doesn't have time for him. Maybe a cousin of the royal family can help? Tybalt/Mercutio

**AN: **Hi dear reader! Some people already told me the videos in the last chapter are not working (sob). I saw a big part of the link was cut off, thank you very much FFnet… **If you want the videos, just ask.** There, and now: chapter!

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_Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap..._

Mercutio was tapping his fingers on the desk. He looked at the door, stopping the tapping for some seconds and then continued.

_Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap..._

Tybalt was late. Very late. Normally the Capulet would arrive in the office precisely on time, no second too late or too early. It was almost scary. But Mercutio was waiting for almost half an hour now and there was still no sign of him. He had sat down on the couch, on the chair, had looked out of the window, stepped through the room countless times, looked into the hall… Just to do something while waiting. Now he was sitting at the desk again, tapping his fingers on the piece of furniture impatiently.

_Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap... SLAM!_

The brown haired slammed his fist onto the desk and stood up. Here he was: waiting for Tybalt, for nothing, while Mercutio could have easily left the house hours ago to see Benvolio and Romeo. Tybalt took almost half his day in seizure and now he just didn't bother showing up. How did he dare to call _him_ rude? With loud steps he walked to the door; he was going to look for him. And if he would find him, the Capulet would regret it.

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"Look Tybalt!"

Tybalt and Juliet were taking a break at Verona's square. They had walked through almost whole Verona, just talking, Juliet clenching her arm in Tybalt's. The young girl was looking into one of the little fountains now, the reflection of the sun casting a light on her already shinning face. Tybalt turned his head and looked down into the fountain.

"I see nothing."

"You are not looking closely enough."

He turned his whole body, bowing down closer to the water. Juliet pointed at the water. "Look here and here."

Tybalt was searching for something on the bottom, but still he couldn't see anything that would have possibly claimed Juliet's attention.

"Our reflections!"

She looked at the surface fascinated, first looking at her own reflection in the water and then at Tybalt's. The young man looked down at his reflection as well. His face looked almost ghostly white underneath the raven black hair. You could tell they were relatives. Juliet had the same dark brown eyes, but they were warm and full of life. They both had an attractive, perfect looking face, which were common in the Capulet family. She looked happy, so terribly happy for something so little: Tybalt just couldn't understand that. He had to think of Mercutio and how he almost always seemed to have the time of his life. If Juliet's case was a riddle, then Mercutio's was a mystery of life.

"Are mirrors made of water?" Juliet asked, still staring at the water.

"No, they are made of glass, a special kind of it so you can not see through it."

Slowly she touched the water with her finger, creating wrinkles that disturbed the water's peace. Their reflections moved for a while and then stood still again. He was glad he had decided to spend the day with Juliet, it was obvious how she was enjoying her day off, away from all the worries she had at home.

"Ahah!"

Tybalt's head shot up, immediately recognizing the yell as one of Mercutio. Juliet looked up surprised, watching how Mercutio made his way towards them. Tybalt stood up and placed himself in front of his niece, functioning as a wall between Mercutio and Juliet..

"Well, well!" Mercutio said, stopping a step away from the Capulets. "Are we having a daytrip?"

"Tybalt…" Juliet said softly, hearing the threatening undertone in the royal's voice. She didn't want to see her cousin fight, certainly not after the wonderful time they had.

Mercutio's eyes found the little figure behind Tybalt. The older Capulet pushed Juliet further behind him, not taking his eyes off Mercutio.

"Mercutio…"

"Oh yes, that is my name! Good you have remembered that!" His voice was loud, he was almost yelling. Tybalt could feel Juliet grabbing his sleeve. "Tell me another thing: can you not remember two things at a time?"

"_Mercutio_!" Tybalt hissed. His hissing had a far more greater impact than Mercutio's yelling. "Do you want everyone to hear? I will first bring her home and then we will talk on."

"Oh, we will have a talk all right."

"Whatever you want, just wait here."

Mercutio let out a sharp, loud laugh. "_Wait_? I have not done anything else this day, I am sick of waiting."

"Then you follow us from a distance, but I swear that if you touch her, that your friends will have to scratch piece after piece of you from the streets." His hand searched for Juliet's behind his back. Not turning around he pulled her up, immediately feeling Juliet's free hand grasping his wrist as she pushed herself against her older cousin. Tybalt pushed her forward gently, his gaze still resting on Mercutio.

He kept doing that till he was ten steps separated from the brown haired. Mercutio started to follow them, keeping the ten steps between them. His eyes rested on Juliet, who was still holding Tybalt closely, sometimes turning her head to look at Mercutio. It was awkward to see someone act so close with the Capulet. He couldn't remember one single time where someone acted like that towards Tybalt and where the black haired had actually allowed it.

The thought that the girl could possibly be his girlfriend, woke up a feeling inside of Mercutio that he did not know. It bordered close to almost jealousy. He found this feeling even more awkward than the sight before him. As Mercutio took a more studying look at Juliet, he saw she looked a lot like Tybalt. Realizing they were probably family, made the unknown feeling disappear. If he hadn't been so angry at the moment, then maybe Mercutio had tried to find the source or the reason of this feeling.

They arrived at the Capulet's mansion, the ten steps still remained between the duo and their follower. Tybalt turned around, facing Mercutio and bowed down, whispering something into Juliet's ear. Mercutio could not hear what it was about, but he knew it was about him for Juliet took a quick look at him again. Then she turned back to her cousin and pinched his hands softly before running inside. She didn't look back and closed the door with a slam. The slam seemed to echo for a while before the usual street sounds of talking people and such came back

Without spending one more look at Mercutio, Tybalt turned around and started to walk away from the brown haired. This, of course, made Mercutio furious. He almost ran after the Capulet, unsheathing his rapier while doing this. Tybalt turned around just in time to grab the royal's wrist. The rapier became useless in the iron grip, missing it's target.

"You pitiful creation! Have you no pride…?" Mercutio blurted out in rage, not even noticing Tybalt was pulling him into the shadows of an alley next to the Capulet mansion. "Speak or I will rip your mouth open till you can not do anything else but talk! Speak I say!"

Tybalt pulled the rapier out of Mercutio's hand and pushed him against the shoulder. "Silence, you imbecile!"

The sudden thud against the wall made Mercutio snap out of his wave of cursing. He blinked confused, as if he didn't knew what he was doing there. His eyes scanned the surroundings quickly and then rested on Tybalt, who was still holding the rapier in his hand. Mercutio felt terribly threatened, noticing he was unarmed and with Tybalt standing in front of him.

Mercutio thought he was going be attacked and so charged towards the Capulet. Now it was Tybalt who didn't knew what was happening. Mercutio's rapier fell on the ground as the person in question pushed Tybalt to the other side of the alley, his fists hitting the Capulet everywhere he could blindly. Tybalt held his arms before his face in protection and kicked Mercutio right on the knee.

The brown haired fell forward into Tybalt's arms, who gave Mercutio another kick in the stomach, finally making him stop to gasp for air. He clenched his fingers into the Capulet's chest so he wouldn't fall down, coughing and trying to breathe in air loudly. The royal's shoulders shook violently.

Tybalt held them in order to make it stop. "Calm down you fool! Have you not got enough attention already? Try to breath more slowly or it will not work!"

"You filthy…" Mercutio managed to say before almost coughing his lungs out again.

Tybalt tilted Mercutio on his feet, making it much easier for Mercutio to breathe in the air. He could feel the royal's nails pressing into his chest as he was holding on to him fiercely. Mercutio's eyes were full of tears from coughing so hard and finally it stopped after a while. His breathing was still irregular and he had the feeling he couldn't stand on his feet anymore. A filthy look was passed on to Tybalt, who didn't looked all to pleased himself.

"Are you really that stupid?"

Mercutio opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by Tybalt. "No! Hush! I did not expect you to be smart, but I thought you had at least the brains to know the chance of someone seeing us talk in the streets? People do not go from hatred to a nice talk in one day, I can tell you. That is why we are here, so we can talk without bringing us into suspicion."

The Capulet's words slowly entered Mercutio's head. He understood now, but there was no way he would admit his mistake and apologize to him in some way whatsoever. "You… took my rapier…" He blamed him instead.

"Because you almost slammed it on top of my head, you clown! People with your attitude would be better of without any weapons."

Mercutio's breathing slowed back down at it's normal tempo, but he still had the feeling that he couldn't stand because of the pain in his knee. He looked at his own hands who were still upon Tybalt's chest and noticed the Capulet's hands holding his shoulders. The brown haired raised his head to look at Tybalt, who's ice cold glare was staring back at him piercingly. The feeling that he couldn't stand anymore only grew by this and seemed to have nothing to do with the pain anymore. Mercutio found himself not able to stop looking at his own reflection in Tybalt's eyes: he looked so differently then when he would look into a normal mirror.

Tybalt had followed Mercutio's gaze and now he had the same problem as the smaller man he was holding: Mercutio's blue eyes reflected Tybalt's image in a strange way. He wasn't the dark Capulet in those eyes but someone else, someone less dark, the dark colours almost fading away because of the bright blue surrounding he saw himself standing in. The tears in the royal's eyes from coughing looked like crystals, as if wanting to reward Tybalt for some unknown reason.

His hands were itching to push Mercutio away, but his muscles didn't cooperate as he remained holding Mercutio. Now he understood why Juliet had been so fascinated by her reflection in the water. Had she seen herself differently, just like Tybalt who almost couldn't recognize himself? But water was something dead, while the source of his reflection was alive. He could feel the other man's warmth; the same kind of comforting warmth that he had felt and missed when Juliet had embraced him a day back. The fact that he seemed to have lost control of his doings, made something tumble inside of Tybalt. The Capulet remembered how he had blamed Mercutio for pulling his head back while he was taking care of the wound on his face. And now he found the same matter almost suffocating him.

Mercutio had felt Tybalt's heartbeat speeding up underneath his hands, but he almost dared to bet that his own heartbeat was much the same. Slowly one of his hands trailed up to the Capulet's neck. He would push him away now, so he could escape from this hypnosis. It had to stop, just one push and it would be over. But Mercutio didn't push Tybalt away, instead of that he let his thumb stroke the Capulet's cheek, so softly that it could have been the wind. Tybalt dug his fingers into Mercutio's shoulders when he felt the thumb ending at the corner of his mouth. As if wanted to say something, Mercutio's lips parted a bit and a shaking breath left him.

Tybalt pulled the royal closer to him while he had mend to push him away. He felt dizzy, like all possible emotions were fighting a war inside of him. One of his hands made it's way up to Mercutio's hair, stroking it carefully and then finally tangling his fingers into it, the soft hair brushing his hand. Tybalt moved in closer, feeling Mercutio's breathing on his lips. He looked into his eyes and could still see the deformed vision of himself, together with Mercutio's own reflection that came back from Tybalt's eyes.

Their lips touched each other briefly, making Tybalt's fingers tightened the grip on Mercutio's hair. The hairs on the Capulet's neck rose as a shiver ran across his spine. The little distance was crossed, their lips finally meeting each other properly. Mercutio closed his eyes, a mix of cold and heat flowing trough his whole body. Tybalt turned around, taking Mercutio with him and pushing the smaller man against the wall with his hips. The kiss deepened, faint breathing sometimes escaping from the two youngsters.

"T-Tybalt…" Mercutio muttered against the Capulet's lips as he opened his eyes again.

His voice made Tybalt pull back slowly, looking at the dazed Mercutio. He stared at him for a while, letting the sight before him enter his head. And then Tybalt did what he had wanted to do earlier: he pushed himself away from the brown haired carefully. Mercutio's hands fell next to his hips like two useless tools as they were separated from Tybalt's chest. He looked at his feet, for once not daring to look at the Capulet in fear of what he would see.

They continued standing there, Tybalt at one side of the alley and Mercutio at the other. Tybalt was first to leave, this time with no Mercutio running after him to stop in. He stayed behind, leaning against the wall and listening to Tybalt's fading footsteps. And then there was silence.

Silence and Mercutio.

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FINALLY! What a relief... my god! The first one who says I rushed things will get some serious spanking, honestly, it's freaking chapter seven. Holy number seven, we thank you! So happy that the critical moment has passed… It was darn hard!

I seriously hope you like it…


	8. Chapter 8

**Teach Me How To…**

**Summary**: Tybalt wants to learn how to write, his parents didn't want to teach him and now his uncle doesn't have time for him. Maybe a cousin of the royal family can help? Tybalt/Mercutio

**AN:**Hello my dearest of readers!

I am **so terribly, terribly, terribly sorry** for the two years I haven't updated anything (oh my god, don't read that out loud. It sounds much worse than just reading it). Much has been going on, I have grown up now and studying psychology, yay! But now... I have time to work on fics again! Bigger yay! Once in a while I got reviews or favourite alerts for this fic, which encouraged me to continue. Hugs and cookies to you all for the lovely reviews you gave! You couldn't have made your humble writer any happier

Now, to go on with the sexiness:

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"Betrayal."

Mercutio looked out over the garden, leaning against the window of the small office. His forehead was resting on the cool glasswork. It was a nice day, the sun shinning and a pleasant breeze playing in Verona's air. Still Mercutio stayed inside the safe building that he knew as home. And all that because of one Capulet.

He was speaking silently, although Mercutio was the only person in the room, as if wanting to convince himself of his own existence. To remember himself that he was still there.

"Betrayal." Mercutio repeated. "Oh dear Benvolio, sweet Romeo, was I not a friend? A friend of Montague or even a bit of Montague myself? The pain I would throw upon you if you witnessed this word. This word carved on my forehead by the nails of a cat... A Capulet, my truly beloved Montagues, a Capulet, of all those people. A smack in the face would have been more merciful and less painful."

"But who could resist the gaze of a cat? It's tail sweeping around, nails spread and waiting for the moment to strike. Patiently waiting and then striking like thunder, digging those spread nails into it's victim. Poor victim, poor me…" He raised his voice as if someone had accused him of something. "Of course I was the victim. I did not ask for this to happen, anyone who would think so will have to face me and my rapier."

He frowned. "Poor friends, would you be facing my blade, thinking so?… Thinking I was the one to blame as I think that I… could not help thinking… that feeling that Romeo described…"

Mercutio started to walk around the room from the one side to the other, again talking to himself in a hushed voice. "Love is only for those who are chosen by God. It would be a sin to… to _love_ a man, a Capulet, Tybalt. Women were made to be with men. God painted Adam and Eve to be the first man and woman, and had probably nodded in approval and happiness while He was cleaning the mighty brushes with which He painted life itself. If there would ever be a painting made of me and Tybalt, together as we were that day, then God would have ripped and burned it for we were not meant to be. The wood of the brushes being crushed in His hands and the rests falling upon us, punishing and destroying, for we are sinners, betrayers and liars."

He stopped walking. "I was never that much a man of God, nor a believer or a reader of the bible. Never have I prayed for one thing, but just living life from day to day, laughing away trouble like jokes… Yet I can not help thinking again… as being God of my own life and Tybalt of his…"

He thought about it in silence and then suddenly Mercutio laughed as if he had heard a joke. "What am I actually making myself up? Since when do I need approval for my actions? Since when am I afraid to face a Capulet?" The tension that was around him a few seconds back had completely disappeared. "I am never afraid to face anyone. And I will prove it right now and that God himself may see that I do not care one little bit."

Maybe God didn't exist for Mercutio, but the Devil did.

And his name was Tybalt.

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The big confrontation came half an hour later with one short knock on the door.

Mercutio was turned towards the window, looking at the reflection of the door as he saw it been opened. The figure of Tybalt became visible in the glass as well, more darker and threatening than Mercutio could remember. And then the door was closed. He continued to observe Tybalt's reflection in the glass for a little while longer in silence.

It was when Mercutio had turned around that he felt his stomach falling down.

"I hope your absence has not made your little knowledge of writing disappear." Mercutio simply said.

"A lot more is needed for that." Tybalt simply answered.

Simple, but very tensed.

"Let us pick up where we have left, shall we?" … "Capital letters." Mercutio added quickly. He sat down on the couch next to the desk and tried to look as nonchalantly as possible, which was even harder now he had said something stupid as that.

Tybalt hadn't noticed. That, or he hid it very good. He placed himself on the chair and waited.

"Capital letters." Mercutio repeated. He pulled a piece of parchment towards him together with a quill and ink. Quickly he wrote down the alphabet in capital letters, sometimes looking up slightly to see Tybalt staring back at him. When he was done, Mercutio pushed the piece of parchment back to the Capulet together with another piece, the quill and the ink.

Without waiting for another order, Tybalt started to copy the text. Now it was Mercutio's turn to observe Tybalt. It was almost as if the Capulet didn't care about what had happened. Yet there was a difference, but the brown haired couldn't say what.

Tybalt looked up, Mercutio looked away. A piece of parchment was given back to Mercutio, who started to study it.

"Good. Good capital letters."

Tybalt shuffled in his chair. Mercutio coughed.

"Maybe…" Mercutio didn't knew what to do next. Tybalt looked at him again. "… you could try writing your name." He finally managed to think of.

This proposal had a strange effect on Tybalt. "No."

"No?" Mercutio looked puzzled. "How do you mean 'no'?"

"Not now."

"'Not now'…?"

"No."

"What…?"

"_No_."

"Do not act like such a child!" The old Mercutio was back.

The Capulet looked terribly absent. Tybalt had his reasons which were unknown to everyone.

Tybalt wished they were unknown to him as well.

_Three children were playing on the street. A boy with black hair was with them but didn't share the laughter. He was silent and watched them__ carefully, not giving any sign that he wanted to join their fun. One of the children sat down and wrote something in the sand with his finger, his tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration. _

"_There!" He yelled out and pointed at what he had written. "Pathino!"_

_The second child ben__d down. "I can write my name as well!... Roberto! Now you!"_

_When the third child started to write his name down, the silent black haired boy stood up abruptly. "I have to go home."_

_Without waiting for an answer he walked away, getting piercing looks from the other three children in his back._

"_Tybalt!" One of them yelled, but the black haired didn't look back._

_When he arrived home, his mother was reading a book in the hall. She didn't look up when her son closed the door and came towards her._

"_Why can I not read nor write mother?"_

"_Why would you want to?" The short answer came back. "You could not do it anyway, even with lessons."_

"… _I could."_

_A sharp laugh escaped from the mother. "You do not need the knowledge of writing and reading to have power over people. You have rapier lessons for that. You will be a leader."_

"_But...!" The child looked desperate. _

_She finally looked up from her book. __"Listen to me! You will become a man that will get respect from everyone for what you can do, not for what you can not do. If you become good with the rapier, people will respect you, or fear you, it is how you see it. If you have a lot of people that look up to you, because of respect or fear, more people will follow. You do not get that kind of power with reading books."_

"… _Yes mother."_

"_Later maybe you can get rid of those cursed Montagues who seem to bother your uncle in Verona so much. Then you might be doing something useful for a change instead of coming to me with your ridiculous questions."_

_The child walked away defeated. It seemed that his future would only exist out of hate and fighting. _

_And that was what happened. His mother had wanted it to be like that._

How ironic that he now got what he had asked for so many years ago thanks to a friend of the Montagues.

In the meantime his teacher was trying to get Tybalt's attention again. "Hello?... Hello!... Are you dead? Blink with your eyes to give me a sign!"

Tybalt looked up at Mercutio slowly, who stopped his attempts to get attention from the Capulet. "Ah! There you are again, safe and sound!... Or maybe not that much sound…"

"I liked it more when you could only say 'capital letters'." Tybalt said mockingly.

Now it was Mercutio who lost all sound. He threw a destructive look at Tybalt. He then pulled another piece of parchment towards him and wrote something down. He held it out to Tybalt after he finished

"If you refuse, then I shall do it."

Tybalt looked down at the parchment but did not took it.

"Tybalt. That is your name. Always begin names with a capital letter. For cities or countries idem ditto. For example..." Mercutio wrote something down again. "Verona. Capital letter, because it is a city. And..." He wrote. "Mercutio. That is my name."

Finally the black haired took the piece of parchment from Mercutio, but then stood up and made his way to the door, making Mercutio jumping up from his seat as well.

"Where are you fleeing to?" He barked.

"I never flee, but if you are so eager to know; I am going home." And there he went, passing through the door and closing it behind him. Remembering what his mother did, or rather what she did not, made Tybalt feel like leaving. He did not know why, but he knew he did not want to stay any longer near Mercutio for the moment.

No three seconds later and Mercutio followed through the same door. "You better hurry those legs of yours back in here Capulet or I will twist them around your neck until you can rub your eyes with your feet!"

The words had no effect, but Mercutio continued with his fountain of harsh words till they were outside on the street. Tybalt's face was one without any expression, as if he didn't hear the young man's rumbling next to him. But of course it was loud and clear. People looked outside but turned away again seeing the two. Nothing no one hadn't seen before and it was better not to get involved.

Though not everyone thought the same way. The duo stumbled across the same group of Capulets from a few days before. Mercutio finally stopped his yelling and Tybalt looked rather alarmed by seeing his friends.

"Sir Tybalt!" One of them yelled. "Is that dog bothering you again?!" The sound of rapiers being pulled out was heard. In a reflex Mercutio wanted to take his, but came to the horrifying conclusion that he didn't carried his rapier with him.

"It is nothing kind friends!" Tybalt tried.

"But sir. Why so merciful? You have let him run once, why twice? The time has come for the master to put the dog on his place. He is false, and a false dog is one that has to get rid of, or he will continue biting."

"Better to be a false dog than a cat with no pride!" Another voice yelled.

Benvolio and three other Montagues had appeared on stage as well. "Five against one man without a sword... I can almost feel shame coming upon me in your place. If you would wish to fight with the rapier you are holding in your hands, you will have to use it against ours." Benvolio continued lifting his own weapon."Friend Mercutio! Take this!"

Benvolio threw a second rapier towards Mercutio. It fell on the ground before him, and he picked it up. The brown-haired looked at Tybalt who had his hand on his rapier and his eyes on Mercutio. Yet it did not seem he would use his weapon against Mercutio. They looked at each other, and for them it was clear what both of them were thinking.

"_What now?"_

The two groups clashed, leaving Mercutio and Tybalt out of their attention. Though, they could not leave, and even if they could, Mercutio wouldn't leave Benvolio like that. The youngster also ran towards the group, and he could hear Tybalt following behind him. The sand on the ground flew up so wildly, that it was hard to see what was going on. A yell was heard and one of the Capulets fell on the ground, holding his leg in pain. One of the Montagues gave him a rough kick in the face. A loud crack rose up and the Capulet moved no more. Another Montague tumbled over the body, and a man from the house of Capulet took this opportunity to attack. A few seconds later, the ground was stained by the man's blood.

Mercutio was standing back to back with Benvolio, both fighting another Capulet. Suddenly, the man who had called Mercutio a dog, kicked up more sand from the ground, troubling everyone's view. Benvolio and Mercutio parted, rubbing their eyes in pain. Vaguely, despite the sand that was still swirling through the air and the sand in his eyes, Mercutio could see the man moving forward with his rapier towards the brown-haired. He prepared himself for the pain, but it never came. A figure came before him and was thrown against Mercutio when it received the blow of the weapon. While he tumbled backwards with his saviour, Mercutio saw who he thought to be Benvolio attacking the Capulet.

Mercutio's back slammed against the ground, the other man falling on top of him. He could feel the blood on the ground soaking his clothes. It could be the blood from a friend or from a foe, but there was too much yelling and chaos to see what was going on. The brown-haired could swear that even more people came to join the fight, but because of the sand that was flying up, it was hard to tell who or from which house they were.

It was then that Mercutio realized not only his back was getting wet from the blood, but he could also feel the warm liquid upon his chest. The figure upon him moved faintly. Mercutio wanted to take a look at the figure, when a foot of one of the men still standing and fighting, crushed his arm. Mercutio groaned loudly but short, the weight on his arm leaving again. He had to get up if he wished not to be kicked and be crushed to death.

As he tried to get himself off the ground, he recognized the man upon him as no one else than Tybalt. His shoulder was soaked with blood and it was obvious that it was Tybalt's. He still moved weakly.

Mercutio's heart leaped. What would he do? Tybalt did not look like he would get up himself. If he would leave him there on the ground, he would certainly be crushed by the others, dying a horrible death. But if he would get him up, Mercutio would be forced to get Tybalt out of there.

Not having much time to think any longer, for another foot nearly missed Mercutio's fingers, Mercutio pulled himself up, taking the Capulet with him. Letting the black-haired lean upon his shoulder with his arm around his neck, Mercutio tried to find Benvolio. There were a few bodies on the ground, and just like the figures who were still standing, it was unclear who was who. His eyes didn't find his beloved friend, but Mercutio knew he could not continue standing there.

And so Mercutio escaped the dusty and bloody scene.

The false dog with the cat without pride leaning on his shoulder.

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**AN: ****I edited this chapter after some advice I got from Greenleaf's Daughter. I just cut the last part out and I will rewrite it again.**

I hope you liked it and I hope I still know how to keep you guys interested.

Till the next chapter!


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